


shedontknowbutsheknows

by LightningInABottle



Series: BLUE LIPS [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arguments, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Cheating, Guilt, Guilty Pleasures, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Infidelity, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Graphic Smut, Song Lyrics, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 07:14:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17219351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningInABottle/pseuds/LightningInABottle
Summary: It's been a week since Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton hooked up under a drug-fueled haze.But it shouldn’t come as a surprise when Thomas discovers that Hamilton’s loyalties lie nowhere, not even in the arms of his dear Elizabeth Schuyler. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was the guilt that came with such a revelation, nor how quickly said guilt was forgotten the moment Hamilton laid a hand on him again.Coming down from the high of a good hit is one thing. Coming down from just a taste of Hamilton? Downright impossible.





	shedontknowbutsheknows

**Author's Note:**

> For enhanced reading experience: listen to shedontknowbutsheknows by Tove Lo!  
> (And read the two previous works for context)

Thomas Jefferson always thought was something so entrancing about the dawn, the thrill of knowing that you passed seamlessly from the darkness of the previous day into the light of the next without ever having to close your eyes. Of course, he rarely had the opportunity to stay up for that long, but on a Saturday night every two weeks or so, he liked to indulge himself. Now, as he slipped into a booth in the corner of his favorite coffee house, laptop in hand, Thomas recalled the last time he had _indulged_.

Hamilton with his revealing clothes and terrible flirting and something undeniably desperate in his eyes, had been the only person at that club who Thomas could look at. After months of ignoring him, his self-proclaimed archnemesis decided that the only proper conversation starter was a joint of weed and some truly awful dirty talk. And somehow, Thomas had found himself _not minding._ Which is exactly how he found himself with Hamilton, hanging by the bar at sunrise and getting high in the parking lot with their bodies talking.

They had hooked up last week, that night in they saw each other at the club, urgent and messy and unrestrained. The high of the ecstasy they had both taken only fueled their emotions, warping hatred into something like desire. Thomas had a good time—maybe even great, now that he recalled it properly. Hamilton’s lips were somehow more addicting than the pills, his sweaty skin intoxicating, every needy sound like music to Thomas’s ears. Thomas should have figured Hamilton would be the epitome of a power-bottom, but he still felt an equal combination of amusement and surprise when Hamilton had tried to overpower him. _As if._

Thomas smiled at the memory, opening up his laptop and taking a sip of his coffee. All in all, it had been a pretty nice night, along with an even better dawn. _He regretted nothing._ But then there had been the morning, which might’ve been the worst experience of Thomas’s career of one night stands. Hamilton had awoken after a few hours of fitfully kicking at the sheets, only to squeeze his eyes shut and groan. After a great deal of cursing and hurled insults, Thomas just ended up pushing Hamilton naked out of his bed and telling him to show himself out.

Leaving Thomas alone to deal with the comedown of the drugs.

That was the last time they had seen each other. Hamilton had become somewhat of a social recluse at work, so Thomas never really argued with him much anymore. Why, he couldn’t be sure. Everyone in the office might’ve been glad if not for the eerie strangeness of _Alexander Hamilton_ not expressing his opinions at every turn. But Thomas didn’t spend too much time thinking of that, instead choosing to focus on the positives: he could finally get work done without an angry gremlin breathing down his neck. _An angry gremlin he had fucked into the mattress._

Just then, the little bell attached to the door of the cafe rang, and Thomas looked up from his laptop to see Hamilton himself—fingers intertwined with that of none other than Eliza Schuyler’s. Now, Thomas had only seen her as a proxy to Angelica, but he recognized her still. He watched with keen eyes as Hamilton stared directly at him while Eliza leaned over the counter to order their coffee, all the color draining out of his face. Hamilton was dressed in actual clothes this time, some jeans and a strangely oversized hoodie that Thomas assumed was there to cover up marks.

Thomas saw her come close, pressing a quick kiss to Hamilton’s cheek. They were quite obviously dating, and the cold dread in his gut told him that this girlfriend wasn’t one that Hamilton had acquired during their week apart. Which could only mean... _fuck this shit._ Thomas grabbed his coffee, slamming his laptop shut. He never signed up to be the side hoe during a hazy hookup. Eliza was always so sweet during the few times Thomas had spoken to his friend’s younger sisters. She didn’t deserve this, and Thomas didn’t deserve to feel the shocked guilt itching through his veins.

Absentmindedly, he wondered what Hamilton had told her to make her stay. Had he sworn on what little soul he had left that it was an accident? Simply lied his way out? Or did he draw her back to him with written letters and promises of fidelity? As Thomas brushed past them, he saw Eliza’s head turn to look directly at him. _Please don’t say anything please don’t say anything please don’t—_

“Thomas!” Eliza beamed at him, some of her dark hair flying in her face as she whirled around. Hamilton glared at Thomas, his eyes wide. “How are you doing these days?” Thomas smiled weakly at her, genuinely wanting to run out of the coffee shop screaming. _This_ was why he didn’t get high often. Because then he ended up screwing his rival coworker— _taken_ rival coworker.

“I’m pretty good. Sorry I haven’t been dropping by as often.” Thomas rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, keeping his eyes trained on Eliza, who had grabbed her and Hamilton’s coffee and began walking to the very booth Thomas had been sitting at before. “With Angie in London, I can’t seem to find the time.” Eliza chewed her bottom lip.

“Actually, I moved in with Alex,” Eliza breathed, turning away to set the cups in her hands down on the table. During the one second where her attention was diverted, Thomas looked back at Hamilton, whose unfairly pretty lips were moving, forming three words.

_“She doesn’t know.”_

Thomas paused, stopped, stared at Hamilton. Just when he thought the dude couldn’t sink any lower— _not any lower than his knees, anyways_ —he had to go and do something like this. If Angelica were here and not in some fancy English law school, she would almost certainly nail Hamilton’s ass to the wall for cheating on her sister. But before he could do much more than just glare dumbfounded at Hamilton, Eliza was turning back to the two of them. Eliza, who _didn’t know._

 _“_ I had no idea y’all were dating,” Thomas said weakly, the comment punctuated with a pointed look at Hamilton, who was slipping into the booth, sinking into the faux-leather cushions. Eliza joined him, linking their hands together once more. Thomas felt a pang go through his chest.

“Sit down with us and I’ll be happy to tell you about it.” Eliza took a sip of her coffee, and Hamilton nodded along.

“Yeah…” He couldn’t have sounded more half-hearted if he tried. Thomas smiled apologetically, not taking his eyes off of Hamilton, as if he were trying to silently communicate all of his tumultuous thoughts and feelings. Eliza wasn’t the only one betrayed in this scenario.

 _She doesn’t know what you did when you come back home._ When Hamilton had dragged himself out of Thomas’s apartment, did he go right back to his own? The stench of sex and weed sticking to him as surely as the dried sweat on his clothes. Did Eliza sense it? _She doesn’t know what you're doin' out all night long._ Thomas studied them carefully, watched how Eliza drew as close as possible to Hamilton, a pink blush on her cheeks. He knew that she could never allow Hamilton’s inexplicable self-destruction.

“Thanks for the offer, but I have somewhere to be pretty soon.” Thomas threw his half-empty cup in the trash can and tucked his laptop snugly under his arm. He needed to get out of here before his traitorous mind started replaying that night ad infinitum.

 _God,_ Hamilton had been so desperate to get off that it might’ve been grounds for taunting if Thomas wasn’t the same way. Hamilton had even sent a picture of himself with red and purplish hickeys all over his body to Thomas with the caption _‘worth it’._ Thomas had sent one right back, of the bite mark on his hipbone, some obscene message attached. How many more would they have exchanged if it wasn’t for this Sunday morning? _She doesn’t know all the photos you've got in your phone._

Thomas walked out of the coffee shop, stealing one more glance at the happy couple, snuggled together and drinking coffee. How dare Hamilton throw that all away for a drug-fueled fuck? Looking at the fragility in the way Eliza touched him, the uncertainty hidden behind the adoration in her expression, Thomas came to a stark realization.

_—but she knows—she knows—she knows—_

Eliza was smart, one of the most perceptive people Thomas had ever met. There was no way she didn’t see the marks and smell the drugs radiating off of Hamilton. Thomas made eye-contact with the cheating bitch himself through the huge window of the shop. His upper lip curled in disgust at the absolute lack of apology in Hamilton’s expression. What the fuck could’ve happened to make him this way? _She would rather smile and pretend with you than let go._

It would be easier for both of them to think that Eliza was oblivious, that _she didn’t know what her boyfriend was doing out all night long._ That she didn’t know Hamilton went out to dance and get high and hook up with the nearest person. Maybe they could delude themselves into assuming that she _didn’t know all the photos Hamilton had in his phone._ But neither Thomas nor Hamilton had ever taken the easy way out.

_—but she knows—she knows—she knows—_

* * *

 

Thomas should’ve known this would happen, should’ve known that Hamilton, in all of his immaturity, would try to pin this on him. As if _he_ was the one stalking around a sleazy club dressed like a stripper. And _of course_ he had to corner Jefferson at work, maybe the first time they had spoken there in months, and bring it up while Jefferson was trying to edit an article.

“Look, Jefferson,” Hamilton spat the word like it was poison. “What happened with Eliza and the club is _your fault.”_

Thomas, long since given up trying to get work done, spluttered, unable to believe his ears. When he had opened the door to his office, three days after the coffee shop incident, he was surprised to see Hamilton standing there, determination set in his eyes. He couldn’t even protest the audacity, because the very second he realized what was happening, Hamilton had already shouldered his way inside and slammed the door.

“You need to stop blaming me for all the sadness.” Thomas’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I didn’t know about you two.” If he _had,_ then this mess wouldn’t have happened. He would have rejected the joint Hamilton offered him, pushed him away when their bodies got too close, too electric. But some part of Thomas liked to hiss that even if he knew Hamilton was taken, by his friend’s sister, no less, he still wouldn’t have been able to resist.

Hamilton rolled his eyes, pacing Thomas’s office in a furious circle before turning back to glare at him.

“ _You_ are the reason things with Eliza are so tense,” he said, the collar of his shirt askew enough that if Thomas stared, he could see the remnants of their night together. _Fuck it all._ Why did Hamilton still have to be unfairly hot even while he was spewing such bullshit? Thomas tore his eyes away, trying to put on an air of nonchalance as he shrugged.

“Don't see why I'm dragged into it, though. This whole thing is on you.”

Hamilton blinked at him for a few seconds, shock rooting him in place, before an expression of unadulterated fury crossed his face. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead of hissing some insults and curses at Jefferson, he simply whirled around and stalked out of the office. During the second the door was flung open, he saw Hamilton walking down the hallway, say Eliza there, waiting for him, a lunchbox in hand.

 _Jefferson could see her heart break._ Hamilton pecked her on the cheek, and her eyes flickered to the slightly ajar door. Thomas’s blood ran cold when he saw what could only be hints of tears, saw her trying to will them back. _Still, she was keeping face, needed to make her stay._ Hamilton pulled away, linking arms with her and leading them away, presumably to eat lunch outside the office.

As they walked away and Thomas got up to shut the door, he imagined Hamilton was still there. He pictured saying everything he had been wanting to, releasing all the words bundled up on the tip of his tongue.

“How _dare_ you?” He whispered to empty air, sitting back down in his chair and burying his face in his hands. “She doesn’t know what you did when you came back home.” _She doesn’t know what you were doin' out all night long. “_ She doesn’t know all the photos you have in your phone.” Thomas's feelings were too volatile to possibly be healthy, a violent combination of guilt and anger and attraction. Why did he still want to fuck Hamilton, despite everything?

_—but she knows—she knows—she knows—_

“Poor Eliza, who would rather smile and pretend with you than let go,” he hissed to nobody except the ghost of Hamilton in his mind. This was cathartic, speaking to someone that wasn’t there. _Although Thomas wished he was. “_ She doesn’t know what you were doing out all night long.” _She doesn’t know all the photos you have in your phone._ Who was he kidding? From the second Hamilton had lit the joint for him, Thomas was doomed to always want him. It wasn’t a question of _if_ the next time would happen, but _when._

_— but she knows—she knows—she knows—_

* * *

 

Thomas finally snapped on Saturday night, exactly two weeks after their first hookup and only a few days after their confrontation in his office. The tension building inside of him had become unbearable, to the point where he was ready to go out and pick up a nice guy who could help him forget about Hamilton.

But of course, the moment he had stepped into the club, Hamilton himself had been the one to catch Thomas’s eye. Because apparently the universe hated Thomas and wanted to inconvenience him as much as possible. _Great minds think alike._ Hamilton seemed markedly less desperate than their first night together, his clothes only slightly revealing, a vape pen in hand instead of a beer or weed. He still looked unfairly hot, the smirk shining on his face like a beacon as he walked up to Thomas, a greeting already building on his lips.

“Look, Jefferson,” he began the second he was in hearing range, tucking the vape into his back pocket smoothly. The beat of the club’s music was quieter than usual, but Thomas still found himself leaning in close to hear. “I’m sorry about going off on you, but you have to know that I love Eliza. I would never hurt her. And what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?”

Those words were all it took for the last bit of Thomas’s self-control to break. He twisted himself around, fingers bunching in the fabric of Hamilton’s shirt and pushing him up against the nearest wall. _Fuck,_ Thomas had been wanting to do this all damn week. It was about time, really. Now he had a chance to act on his fantasies, all the while saying what he had wanted to from the time he saw Eliza in the coffee shop.

“Don't even bother with your lies,” he snapped, hands pinning Hamilton against the wall easily. “The only reason you don’t know that she knows is that Eliza won’t let you see her when she cries.” Thomas felt Hamilton tense, but despite his painful realization, he still leaned into Thomas’s touch when his chin was tilted up.

“So...what?” Hamilton said, voice still slightly hoarse. His eyes had a strange combination of desire and uncertainty, like he couldn’t be sure if Thomas wanted to kiss him or kill him. _Probably both._

“We’re gonna go back to my apartment, and your little relationship will go on unhappy in denial.” Thomas’s voice was sure, and his words had their intended effect, Hamilton recoiled, breaking free of his grip. Maybe now that Thomas had pissed him off enough, he would leave? Find someone else and save Thomas the guilt of hurting his friend. But instead of doing any of that, Hamilton wrapped his arms around Thomas’s neck and crashed their lips together.

This time, the kiss was pleasant without mints barely hiding the taste of weed. Instead, Hamilton tasted like peaches, his stubble scraping lightly over Thomas’s jaw. Now, without the buzz of other drugs, Thomas could truly enjoy the softness of Hamilton’s mouth, the skilled yet insistent movements of his tongue. When they pulled away for air, Hamilton grinned, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction.

“Don’t be a dick. Just get us a taxi.”

How could Thomas argue with that? Especially when Hamilton still looked so damn _good_ under the flashing lights of the club. Thomas pulled his phone out and ordered an Uber. Ten minutes until arrival, considerably less than before. Which was fortunate, considering Thomas didn’t want to stop this train of events to think through what he was doing. Silently, he grabbed Hamilton’s wrist and led them outside, flashbacks to the last time this exact thing had happened.

— _you look so pretty yeah_ — _sweat from head to toe—I’m_ _no chemist, still want that magic—_

That sunrise had felt spectacular with the drugs, and Thomas’s anticipation only grew when he imagined what if would feel like without them. When the cool air hit his face, Thomas inhaled deeply, releasing his hold on Hamilton’s hand. No use in giving the wrong ideas. He still hated Hamilton, but he just... _couldn’t resist._

“Eliza,” was all Thomas said to interrupt the silence. His lust had overwhelmed his guilt, and he didn’t even try to fight it.

“What about her?” Hamilton’s eyebrows furrowed together cautiously as he watched Thomas for any signs of cruel comments like the one before.

“She won’t know what you did when you come back home. She won’t know what you're doin' out all night long.” The statement was both comforting and unnerving. Better than Eliza stay in the dark, keep her heart from being broken. Thomas had never understood the phrase _‘ignorance is a bliss’_ until now, when he realized that sometimes it was better not to know.

“I guess she won’t,” Hamilton sighed, fidgeting with the low-cut collar of his shirt. Thomas continued speaking, not even processing what was coming out of his mouth. Hamilton was already willing to hook up with him, and it wasn’t like Thomas cared about the guy’s feelings. So whatever he said didn’t matter.

“She won’t know all the photos you'll have in your phone.” Thomas grinned at Hamilton, already imagining the sorts of things they could send to each other. Filthy pictures, even more filthy captions, recollection of what had happened the night before and promises for later. Hamilton responded with a smirk of his own, walking over to the taxi once it finally arrived. Neither of them said what they both knew to be true.

_—but she knows—she knows—she knows—_

The second they got into Thomas’s  apartment, they were _on_ each other, kissing and licking and biting at any exposed skin they could reach, something becoming more and more exposed with every piece of clothing yanked off. Thomas had his hands tangled in Hamilton’s hair while rough palms wandered over his chest. When Thomas’s teeth closed around the skin where Hamilton’s neck met his shoulders, an unholy moan escaped him. Thoughts of Eliza were quickly fading from both of their minds the closer they got. But _oh_ , Thomas knew the truth:

— _she would rather smile and pretend with you than let go—she won’t know what you're doin' out all night long—she won’t know all the photos you'll have in your phone—_

Sometime during their ferociously passionate kissing, Thomas realized that Hamilton was pushing him back on the bed in the corner of his apartment, not breaking away to breathe. He had to admit, the way Hamilton straddled his hips was undeniably hot. As was the confidence with which he moved, like he had done this thing so many times before when in reality, this would only the second time he had seen Thomas naked.

Things progressed the way one would expect them to. In a way, it was like taking drugs. The first period of bitterness or discomfort or awkwardness, followed by building pleasure, building ecstasy, building high. And then there was the peak, where nothing mattered but the body pressed up against his. It was perfect, everything Thomas never knew he needed

_But—_

“Do you feel sorry?” Hamilton’s voice was still breathless as he collapsed into the mattress, turning to face Thomas. His face was flushed red, lips slightly parted, sweat making his brown hair stick to his forehead. Thomas couldn’t believe how someone so _horrible_ could look this attractive, this arousing. Thomas sighed and shook his head, resigned to his fate of being dragged into Hamilton’s cycle of highs and lows and self-destruction

“Not sorry enough to stop.” Thomas forced his mind away from Eliza, away from all the people Hamilton was hurting. It didn’t matter, he told himself. Eliza was blissfully oblivious. But he still couldn’t stop what he already knew from poisoning his thoughts. Fuck, maybe Hamilton had the right idea, forgetting everything with drugs and sex.

Thomas liked to stay away from drugs most of the time, but sex...that was good. With Hamilton, it was _great_ , the high. But he always knew there would be a comedown.

_—she knows—she knows—she knows—_

**Author's Note:**

> We get some of Thomas's perspective in this one!  
> I hope you had fun reading the third part of this series! Thank you so much to my darling swanofthelake, for betaing <3  
> (Follow me @lightningin.abottle for more updates)  
> Thanks for reading! <3


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